Half Life (19 page)

 
“
Yes,
”
I reply determinedly, climbing to shaky feet. 

 
“
I said you were working too hard but would you listen?  Oh no,
”
chides my baby sister.

 
“
Alright, point taken.  Now the ball
’
s over I can spend the next couple of days relaxing.
”

  As we wander through the house to the front door to see out the guests I realise something has again changed.  The house is no longer light and elegant.  On the contrary it is dark and a little oppressive, the beautiful creamy marble floor now dark gloomy wood.  The gaily papered walls are replaced with thick wood panelling and the furniture is likewise drab and dark.  But my confused brain can
’
t fathom the reason for it.

 
“
What
’
s happened to the house?
”
I say.

 
“
How do you mean?
”
replies Ellie.

 
“
All the wood and the floor.  It wasn
’
t like that earlier.
”

 
“
What are you talking about?
”
she frowns. 
“
It
’
s always been like that.
”

  She look as though she
’
s wondering whether to call the men in white coats so I decide to let the subject drop.  I
’
m completely baffled, shaken up and on top of all that I
’
m longing for Dominic.  I
’
ve spent just a few hours in his company and I miss him already, if he was real that is.

  I stand by the door on wobbly legs as the departing guests shake my hand and tell me what a wonderful evening they
’
ve had.  I try to put enthusiasm into my replies but my eyes keep wandering to the portrait of Dominic.  That too is startlingly changed, the face harder and cold and terribly disillusioned with life.

 
“
Oh, who is that dour-looking fellow?
”
enquires one of the departing ladies.

  The question is directed at me but fortunately Tom takes up the reply, for which I
’
m grateful because I
’
m still very much out of sorts.

 
“
That is Lord Carmichael, the fourth Earl, also known as The Wicked Lord.
”

  My head snaps up and I frown.  That
’
s not the truth at all.

 
“
It seems he was very popular until one night he fell in love with a lady but she inexplicably vanished and his heart was broken,
”
he explains eagerly in his theatrical way. 
“
He refused to marry any other woman, swearing she would return to him one day but she never did.  So he drowned his sorrows in drink and opium and became heartless and cruel.  He was the one who installed all the dreary wood.  He wanted the house to reflect his pain.
”

  I stare up at the portrait, horrified. 
“
Oh God what have I done?
”
I breathe.

 
“
What?
”
whispers Ellie, the concern back in her eyes.

 
“
Nothing,
”
I reply, close to tears. 

  I just want to get away from everyone so I can try and process what has happened.  The minute the last guest finally departs I make my excuses and retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom, which coincidentally used to belong to Dominic two hundred years ago.  Then I bury myself under the covers and don
’
t look out until morning, praying that when I wake the house will be restored and I will find it has all been a dream.

  I don
’
t get my wish.

  The next morning the place is still entombed in its miserable wood panelling and Dominic
’
s portrait scowls down at me.

 
“
I
’
m so sorry,
”
I whisper to his image.

  I recall something my grandfather told me shortly before he died.  He said the house was in possession of a great secret, one so incredible that he could not tell me what it was without risk of me thinking him mad.  As he was dying and doped up on painkillers at the time I paid his words no heed.  Now I know exactly what he had been referring to.

  Every day I pray the strange rift in time will open up and allow me to meet with Dominic just once more.  Whenever I enter a room in the house I hope it will be filled with figures in grand hooped dresses and breeches but it never happens.  So I pour all my energy into the house and ensuring its upkeep.  I consider ripping out all the hideous wood panelling that represents Dominic
’
s sorrow and restoring it to its former glory but it
’
s a listed building so I
’
m not allowed.  Every week the tourists enter the house and roam its rooms in wonder.  They stare up at Dominic
’
s portrait and say what an unpleasant-looking individual he is, which fills me with fury because I know what he really is but I keep my own counsel and tell no one about what I had experienced, not even Ellie who is my best friend in the world.  She and Tom help me run the estate, which is just managing to keep its head above water.  When we start opening it up to wedding parties we actually begin to make money and life falls into a happy rhythm.  However there is a void inside me that only a return to the past can fill but it never happens.

  It is a year to the day from the last masked ball and I have decided to hold another.  I
’
ve told everyone I want to make it an annual tradition on the same night each year, as a gimmick to attract business.  However my real reason is that I hope it will open the same gateway that the last one did.

  Once again I am disappointed.  The party itself is a hit with even more guests in attendance but the signs of modern times remain stubbornly put.  There are no flickering candles and no one has the first clue how to dance a Quadrille.  Instead the masked gowned figures gyrate to Lady Gaga and Beyonce. 

 
“
What
’
s up with you?
”
frowns Ellie, breathless from dancing. 
“
The party
’
s a hit.  Now will you please enjoy yourself?
”

 
“
Sorry, I
’
ve just got a bit of a headache.
”

 
“
Have some champers, that
’
ll get rid of it.
”

 
“
Don
’
t worry about me, I
’
ll be fine.  Go and enjoy yourself.  Tom looks lonely dancing on his own.
”

 
“
If you
’
re sure
…”

 
“
I am.  Really,
”
I reply, forcing a smile.

  I watch my little sister twirl back onto the dance floor into the arms of her husband and feel a pang of envy, wishing I could find what she has.

 
“
May I have the honour of this dance?
”
says a deep voice in my ear.

  Startled, I turn to find myself staring into a pair of black eyes.

 
“
Dominic?
”
I murmur in astonishment.  He pulls off his mask and I gasp in amazement. 
“
How?
”

 
“
I do not know,
”
he smiles, touching my face. 
“
I was hosting my own ball and suddenly found myself here.
”
  He frowns. 
“
What is that dreadful noise?
”

 
“
Lady Gaga.
”

 
“
Lady Gaga?  Peculiar name.  Is she of an old lineage?
”

  I can
’
t help but smile. 
“
I don
’
t think so.  Come on then.
”

  He freezes as he regards the wild dancing Ellie and Tom are engaged in. 
“
I don
’
t think I can do that.
”

  I take his hand and lead him to the edge of the floor. 
“
All you have to do is hold me close.
”

 
“
I think I can manage that,
”
he smiles, dipping his head to kiss me.

  From the corner of my eye I see Ellie and Tom staring in amazement as I kiss the tall dark handsome stranger.  Fortunately Dominic is so changed from his portrait they don
’
t recognise him.

 
“
How long will you stay?
”
I say.

 
“
I do not know but I would like to make the most of it.
”

 
“
Alright,
”
I smile happily, kissing him again.

  As I rest my head on his shoulder I see the dark wood has gone from the walls, which are once again bright and happy.  Beneath our feet the creamy marble gleams as we moved together blissfully.

  Ella donned her black hat and sighed at the lined face staring back at her in the mirror.  Once she
’
d been called a beauty but time had effectively erased all that.  Now she was just another white haired old lady.  Her liver-spotted hand went up to touch the worn fabric of the hat and she smiled wistfully.  Despite its battered appearance she still loved it because it had led her to him, to Philip.

  As she gazed into her own rheumy eyes that had once been a vibrant green she was transported back forty years.

  Ella had just purchased her brand new black velvet hat and was proudly strolling through the park to show it off.  Suddenly a gust of wind blew it clean off her head.

 
“
No,
”
she cried, attempting to make chase in her impossibly high heels, the sight causing a group of children to laugh.

  She chased it through the autumn leaves strewn across the path and every time she got close the wind would take it away again.  Suddenly the hat was swept up by a large hand and she found herself gazing into a pair of intense blue eyes.

  The hat forgotten, she stared in wonder at the handsomest man she had ever seen dusting off her pride and joy.  He held it out to her and unconsciously she took it, unable to draw her eyes from his own twinkling blue ones, the jet black hair and lop-sided grin.

 
“
Thank you.
”

 
“
You
’
re welcome.
”
  He extended that big strong hand for her to shake. 
“
Philip.
”

 
“
Ella,
”
she replied breathlessly.

 
“
Nice hat,
”
he smiled.

 
“
Thanks,
”
she murmured, still stunned.

 
“
So Ella, do you live around here?
”

 
“
Yes,
”
she replied smoothly, recovering her composure. 

 
“
I
’
m new to the area.  I
’
ve just moved up from the south and I
’
m getting acquainted with the town.
”

 
“
Oh well there
’
s plenty to do,
”
she babbled, ending with an inane giggle and she kicked herself inwardly. 

  He gave her another lopsided grin that sent her pulse racing and her cheeks reddened.